


Agent 007: Peko Pekoyama

by hufflepuffnaegi



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, F/M, Light Angst, Non-Graphic Violence, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8064553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffnaegi/pseuds/hufflepuffnaegi
Summary: Intelligence officer Peko Pekoyama has received yet another assignment with a license to kill. Now she must protect Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu from SPECTRE at all costs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this in September but this was a gift for my friend for Valentine's Day who came up with the idea of this AU earlier this year (ayyyy thanks Courtney) and I'm just now getting around to posting it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy~

Hotel bars: the only place where a person can spill their guts and no one will bat an eye. Not even the woman wearing the three thousand dollar diamond necklace sitting at your left, nor the man in the tuxedo who’s on his fourth whiskey and second cigar filling the back corner of the room with smoke. Thus is the natural environment of the bartender, who had been working since eleven that morning and still remembered his first customer’s drink as the clock struck midnight.

Just as they began to wipe down the bar, a woman dressed in a long, black dress entered and took a seat at one of the stools. Her pale skin, silver hair, and red eyes stood out against the drab palette of her wardrobe. The bartender smiled and set a coaster down in front of her.

“What can I get ya?” they asked, throwing their towel over their shoulder.

“Martini,” she answered coolly, “Shaken, not stirred. _No_ olives.”

“Comin’ right up, Miss…?” they nodded towards her and began their work.

“Pekoyama,” the woman adjusted her glasses with poise, “Peko Pekoyama.”

She began to glance around her, taking mental notes as she scanned the room. Next to the man with the cigar, there were two others sat beside him, dressed very similarly to the first. They were seated in the booth closest to the unisex restroom’s door. The woman with the diamond necklace was seated at the end of the bar, approximately four seats away. She was carrying nothing with her but an ostentatious fur wrap. Her empty glass was marked with an opaque, red lipstick stain. There was also a couple seated at another booth with a clear view of the pianist, who they had been asking for the same tune to be played by at least five times that night thus far.

“You lookin’ for somebody, Miss Pekoyama?” suddenly the bartender interrupted her thoughts.

Peko turned back towards them, “What?”

They set the now full martini glass on the coaster, “It just seemed like you were lookin’ for someone. You meetin’ anybody here?”

“How could you tell?” she replied taking a long sip of the sweet and dry liquid. Peko’s expression remained just as calm, though her words seemed stiff and unnatural as she spoke, as if this was her first time holding such a casual conversation.

“It’s a talent, kid,” they remarked, “So who is it? A friend of yours?”

A twisted smile spread across Peko’s lips as the dim, florescent lights glinted off her rectangular glasses, “Yes…I suppose you could call us that.”

Just as her sentence finished, a man about the same age emerged from the restroom. He sat down with the three men in tuxedos at the back of the room. Within seconds he began shouting at the bartender to bring them another round.

“Keep your pants on!” the bartender shouted back. Before working on their drinks, they turned back to the woman sat in front of them, “You want a refill?”

“No,” Peko shook her head gently before setting down her glass, along with the money she owed, “I was just leaving.”

“But what about-huh?” by the time the bartender had looked back, Peko was gone. With a shrug, they began to fulfill the orders of the men.

Though Peko wasn’t truly _gone_. She was sat comfortably in the lobby on a long, white leather couch, which conveniently faced the door to the hotel bar. Her eyes remained fixed on the mahogany door and only turned away every few minutes to check the time on her wrist watch. The bar closed in two hours. Not a person who walked by her knew exactly what – or _who_ – she was waiting for. In fact she had sat in the same place for so long that the hotel staff began to whisper about whether or not she was even a guest at the hotel. One maid contemplated calling hotel security. It’s a shame they didn’t, Peko thought. If they had, it could have only helped ease her inevitable burden. But she would handle herself just fine without them.

At approximately one forty-eight, Peko watched on as the pianist left the bar. It was only a few minutes after when the couple who had been bothering him stumbled out of the door as well, and presumably went up to their room where they would continue to hum the tune the pianist played for them. After the door closed once again, Peko adjusted her position for the first time since taking a seat on that couch. Her dry eyes burned as they remained fixed on the door.

Five minutes later, the doorknob began to turn. From the door to the bar emerged the four men who sat at the back corner booth. The man who had yelled to the bartender was the only one speaking in the group. In fact, there were several differences between him and the men who followed behind. Not only did they remain silent as they walked toward the hotel’s front doors, but the one speaking was dressed differently, too. While the others had on crisp, well-fitted tuxedos, he wore a pinstriped suit. There was wrinkling around his elbows and knees, most likely because the suit was clearly too large for his petite frame. Additionally, his blushing cheeks almost seemed ill-suited for his dirty mouth. He continued to walk in front of the other three men, not noticing Peko’s direct gaze.

Though her eyes only remained on him until he and his entourage got as far as the elevators. Then her eyes darted back to the door, where now the woman in the fur wrap began to walk out. Without a moment’s hesitation, Peko reached for something within the folds of the couch she was sitting on. From it she had pulled a long, silver katana and was charging in the direction of the angry man. But it wasn’t the swordswoman anyone else in the room was focused on. Instead it was the sudden bang and ringing that filled their ears. The sound had come from the direction of the bar. More specifically it had come from the gun being held by the woman in the fur wrap, and her bullet was headed straight for the man in the pinstriped suit.

Amidst the sudden screams and scrabbling of the hotel employees, Peko remained on target. With one swift motion, her katana was swung just in time. Inches from the man’s now horrified face was Peko’s blade, which was the only thing that deflected the bullet and ultimately saved his life. But one heroic move wasn’t going to stop the fighting. The three men in tuxedos suddenly pulled out their weapons as the woman in fur continued to fire. Peko grabbed hold of the quivering man’s sleeve and dragged him into the nearest elevator, using the rushing employees around them for cover.

Peko remained shockingly silent as she hit the button for the penthouse. The man who she had just saved from certain death looked on, yearning for her to speak. Though as their elevator continued to climb, he was not appeased and was forced to break the silence himself.

“What the fuck is going on?!” he spat at the woman, fists clenching tightly.

With a sigh, Peko adjusted her glasses, “That woman was trying to kill you.”

“Yeah, no shit! I could see that,” he shouted.

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t ask questions you already know the answer to, Mr. Kuzuryuu,” she suggested.

Kuzuryuu pounded his fist on the elevator wall beside him, “Then tell me who the fuck sent that bastard!”

Peko sighed once more as she turned towards the man, “An organization called SPECTRE. They’ve had their eye on you for quite some time.” The elevator chimed brightly. Pekoyama and Kuzuryuu stepped out of its doors simultaneously and into her penthouse suite. She continued explaining calmly as she approached her closet doors, “Their identity, or should I say – _identities_ are unknown. Beyond that woman in the lobby, their faces remain unseen. And most likely, she was a hired assassin. An unskilled one at that, considering how careless she was tonight.”

“Who the fuck cares how shitty of an assassin she is? She tried to murder me! And I’d like to know why some bullshit organization has a target on my back,” the man retorted, following close behind her.

Peko threw open the doors of her closet and pushed the hangers of clothing to the side. At the back sat a small, black briefcase. The woman took hold of its handle and carried it to the end of her bed. After setting it down, Peko began to enter the six digit code to the briefcase’s lock. With a click the case was open. Out of it she pulled one Beretta 418 pistol and held it out to Kuzuryuu.

“Take this,” she nodded once, “It’s loaded, so be careful, Mr. Kuzuryuu.”

“Would you stop calling me that already?” he snapped, snatching the gun from her hand. The weapon felt awkward in his palm. Too rigid, too dangerous, and very far out of his comfort zone. He had watched people use guns every day, but he had only handled one himself a few times, and certainly never when actually being threatened.

“What should I call you? Young Master, perhaps? That’s how you’re known by most these days, or so I’ve heard,” Peko remarked, shutting the briefcase tightly and heading back to the closet.

Kuzuryuu’s blushing only intensified at her words, “If you call me that I’ll fucking shoot you myself.” He shook his head and sat on the bed in a huff, “Call me Kuzu, okay?”

“Fine,” Peko nodded as she proceeded to throw a few items of clothing onto the bed, “I shall call you Kuzu.”

“Should I call you…” he hesitated, unsure of how to complete his thought.

“Call me what you like.”

“Right…I’ll stick with Peko, then,” Kuzu nodded as he looked over at the clothing next to him, “What the fuck is all this shit for?”

“Disguises,” Peko answered closing the closet doors.

“What? Since when was that part of the plan?”

“Since I was assigned to protect you.”

Kuzu took another look at the items beside him, “I hope you don’t expect me to wear that fucking cat-suit.”

“That would be impractical,” Peko shook her head, “Besides, that’s for another mission I have later. For now, put on that coat, that suit, and the fedora.” She grabbed a shorter dress along with a warm coat, and a new pair of heels and headed to the bathroom. As the pair of them finished changing in their designated areas they continued to discuss.

“So are you going to tell me the plan or what?” Kuzu called to her.

“No. That would not be in our best interest,” Peko answered, emerging from the bathroom.

“And why the fuck not?” he shouted again, “I deserve to know what the hell we’re going to do!”

“ _We’re_ not going to do anything Mr. Kuzuryuu. _I_ am going to get you back home safely, just as I am ordered to do.”

“And who ordered you to do that, huh? My parents? Your agency?”

Peko sighed, “You know I’m not at liberty to say, Mr. Kuzuryuu.”

“Would you stop that shit already?!” he stomped toward her, “Every fucking time this bullshit happens we do the same thing. I ask you for answers you give me nothing! Why do I even bother?!”

“Perhaps you should be asking yourself that question, Young Master,” Peko grabbed her katana, placed it in a carrying bag, and began heading for the exit, “And if you keep shouting like that, we’re bound to be discovered.”

Kuzu groaned and brushed past her. “I said don’t fucking call me that,” he grumbled as he entered the elevator’s doors. Peko climbed in beside him silently and pressed the button for the roof. Kuzu turned to her quizzically and watched as the elevator climbed only one floor before opening its doors once again. Peko stepped out quickly and headed for the roof’s ledge.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Kuzu gulped and followed behind her.

Peko turned to Kuzu and adjusted her glasses before saying, “Give me your belt.”

“Give you my what?” his brow furrowed.

“Your belt, Mr. Kuzuryuu. I need it.”

Kuzu sighed and took off his belt slowly before handing it over to Peko. She nodded before walking closer to the edge. After turning back around to face the concrete wall behind her, Peko pressed the belt’s buckle and fired a piton into the wall with an attached cable.

“Come here,” Peko motioned for Kuzu to approach her.

“Don’t fucking boss me around, okay?” he grit his teeth as he approached the woman.

“Yes, Mr. Kuzuryuu,” Peko nodded as she began to tie the end of the cable around his waist. She then approached the ledge with Kuzu and looked him in the eyes as she took hold of him, “Ready?”

Kuzu simply nodded. After gripping onto Peko, they both stepped off the ledge and began their descent.

After cascading down thirteen or so floors, Peko and Kuzu both placed their feet firmly onto the concrete beneath them. Peko quickly untied Kuzu and detached the cable from the belt before handing it back to him. After examining their surroundings, Peko determined it safe for them to proceed. Kuzu pulled his hat down low, and the two of them linked arms. They continued casually back out to the main street as though nothing had happened. Peko’s car was just around the next corner. If they could make it there, the mission would be all but over. And ultimately, that is all that was planned. After tonight, Kuzu and Peko would likely not see each other again until the next immediate threat. And how long would that be? A month? Six months? Three years? Neither of them was to know. As Kuzu began to think about that looming possibility, he gripped tightly onto Peko’s arm. She was the only person he could trust, and yet he barely knew anything about her. Who was this mysterious agent who always arrived in his hour of need? This thought remained in the back of Kuzu’s mind as he and Peko climbed into a shimmering-silver Aston Martin V12 Vanquish.

“There’s someone following us,” Peko admitted composedly.

“What the fuck? Since when? I didn’t see anybody,” Kuzu instinctively glanced behind him as he put on his seatbelt.

“Hold on, Young Master,” Peko nodded as she threw the car into drive and sped off down the street as quickly as she could.

Kuzu knew they could really be in trouble once he heard the tires of at least two cars screeching behind them. It wasn’t long before gunshots were being fired towards them. Within seconds their back windshield was shattered. Kuzuryuu shouted as the glass cracked and crumbled.

“I _will_ lose them,” Peko stated with determination as if to reassure him, griping onto the steering wheel in front of her as she spoke.

It was almost three in the morning now. Peko couldn’t decide whether she was thankful for the lack of cars on the street tonight or not. Those that were on the street she swerved around easily, as did their pursuers. Peko let out a frustrated sigh as she glanced into her rearview mirror. A sharp right turn threw both Peko and her assignment towards the left wall of the car, causing Kuzu to dig his short nails into the passenger door’s handle.

No matter how hard she tried, Peko couldn’t shake the ferreters. But as soon as she saw the highway sign up ahead, Peko got an idea. Her eyes narrowed as she pressed harder on the gas pedal. She sped down the onramp and out onto the highway, the two cars close behind. Peko rolled down the window at her left and took another quick glance behind her. She reached for the keys in the ignition and yanked off a triangular keychain. After pressing the red button on the center of the keychain, Peko wolf whistled into the small speaker end. Once she had activated the personalized signal, the keychain began to beep.

Kuzu’s eyes went wide, “Peko…is that a fucking bomb?!”

Peko’s eyes remained fixed on the road in front of them. She quickly tossed the keychain out of the window and towards the cars speeding behind them. Within seconds, a fiery explosion erupted as one of the cars was blown off the road. The other quickly swerved to avoid impact and smashed into the side of the highway partition. With that Peko and Kuzu were scot-free.

After several long hours of driving, Peko and Kuzu were approaching a large, secluded estate where Peko had been instructed to bring her passenger. After being admitted through the large, iron gates, Peko drove up the path to the estate’s front staircase and entry. After shifting into park, Peko stepped out of the car, anticipating the need to open the door for Kuzu. Although before she could get to the other side, he had already stepped out.

Kuzu chuckled as he took off his hat and coat, leaving them inside the car. “That was one hell of ride,” he smiled.

Pekoyama was taken aback by his reaction. She expected yelling or sarcasm at the very least. But for once, Kuzuyruu was genuinely happy.

“I’ll consider this mission a success,” Peko nodded.

Kuzu’s expression suddenly became serious as he realized what time it was: time for her to leave him again. Was there any way to prevent it?

“Come inside,” Kuzu cleared his throat as soon as he realized exactly what he had just said, “D-don’t get any fucking weird ideas. I just meant, you know, at least until you have to leave for another mission.”

“I’m afraid a new mission begins as soon as the last one ends, Mr. Kuzuryuu,” Peko answered as she shut the passenger door and headed for the driver’s side.

Kuzu groaned, “I told you not to fucking call me that!”

“That’s right,” Peko gave him a small smile, “Forgive me, Young Master. Goodbye.”

With those words, Peko climbed into the car, and began to drive away. For a few seconds, Kuzu could feel himself wanting to chase after her. Why did she have to leave? Why did tonight ever have to end?

* * *

 

The image of Peko driving away faded into black, which then faded into a bright, burning red glow. Kuzu awoke to an uncomfortable stiffness he knew all too well. Nothing would ever feel worse than being stuck inside the Psychotherapeutic Communication Simulator’s chamber and having a strange device strapped to your brain. With a whoosh, Kuzuryuu’s chamber was being opened. After several hours, he was finally able to sit up straight again.

“Fucking finally,” Kuzu sighed to himself as he began to climb out. As his feet hit the floor, his legs began to shake.

“H-hey let me give you a hand,” a familiar voiced piped up as someone stepped over to help him.

“Get your hands off me, Hinata. I don’t need your help, bastard.”

Hajime Hinata took Kuzu’s classic “bastard” as a sign that he was in fact alright. Kuzu was warned that there might be side effects from going under again, especially for prolonged periods, but Hinata agreed to watch over him and make sure everything went as planned. Luckily, there were no complications as far as he could tell.

“How’d it go?” Hinata asked as he took out an eyepatch from his pocket and handed it over to Kuzu.

Kuzu slipped it on comfortably as he replied, “As well as expected.”

“So…” Hinata trailed off, skirting around the most obvious question.

“Yeah…I saw her,” Kuzu looked toward the floor for a moment before meeting eyes with Hinata.

“…good,” Hinata grinned as he patted Kuzuryuu firmly on the shoulder.

Their comfortable silence was quickly interrupted by a high pitched shouting coming from the room on the other side of the set of exit doors.

“Oi, Owari! You can’t eat all the heart-shaped chocolates. That’s TOTALLY unfair!”

Hinata chuckled at Souda’s shouting before turning back to Kuzuryuu, “Come on. We should probably join the rest of the group before all the desserts are gone.”

Kuzu nodded towards Hinata before answering, “You go on ahead. I got one more thing to take care of.”

Hinata grinned at his friend before heading through the exit. As the doors clicked shut, Kuzuyruu headed towards one of the green-glowing chambers. With clenched fists and hanging head, Kuzu let out a sigh. He placed his right hand on top of the chamber and looked inside. This was no time for crying, but all Kuzu could feel was emptiness. Holidays just weren’t the same anymore. All he could do was remind himself that she wasn’t _really_ gone. But no matter how many simulations, he would always miss having her at his side.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Peko."


End file.
